


BURNT SUGAR (tastes so bitter)

by sugarglassy (sorch), trickstered



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: C-PTSD, Davepeta Is Here, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Meta Shit, Multi, Old People and Their Politics and Their Wars, The Homestuck Epilogues, The Homestuck Epilogues: Candy, The Homestuck Epilogues: Meat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2020-12-27 14:21:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21120212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorch/pseuds/sugarglassy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/trickstered/pseuds/trickstered
Summary: Real people don't have "arcs". You're just human beings, and trolls, and a few other miscellaneous sentient beings. The path towards self actualisation is messy and maybe even futile, but you're trying anyway. There's not much else to do.





	1. it never hurts to give thanks to the navigator (even when he's spitting out random numbers)

A year after the war began, there was a moment where Karkat Vantas allowed himself to think they might win. He'd been standing at the helm of the warship _Krillin Time_, watching the battered Crocker Cruisers that hadn't been destroyed in the skirmish limp away. It was a textbook victory, and they'd secured the safety of the capital with minimal civilian casualties, this time, although the exploding of the Imitation Grubsauce storage tanks had flooded the streets with bright, delicious, artificially-coloured-and-potentially-carcinogenic ooze.  
  
Kanaya and Rose's holographic projection on the ship's communication's hub were assuring him that they'd neutralised the Drone force threatening the western Troll Kingdom. Meenah had responded to them with something made semi-incomprehensible by fish puns, and Karkat had elbowed her out of the frame to clarify, which was no trivial task when the person you were elbowing was almost eight feet tall, not including her horns. (Karkat blames this fact for the popular misconception that he is especially short-- his perfectly _average_ height is almost comically dwarfed by his giant, terrifying, completely batshit and much-beloved second-in-command.) She had taken it in stride, her face still lit up with the fervor of battle. The war seemed to breathe more life into her than the ring she still wore ever did. Nothing made her happier than a good skirmish, except maybe the sweet loot to be had from fallen adversaries.  
  
Karkat, on the other hand, couldn't remember a single moment of the fighting that he didn't hate. Sending Kanaya and Rose out into harm's way was stressful enough to have him bent over the load gaper, sometimes. And as for Dave, and Jade? He wasn't strong enough to even make the attempt. He wasn't even strong enough to give them their orders directly, only through the chain of command. If he were more selfish, and less determined to appear unaffected, he wouldn't have them in the rebellion at all. But rejecting the help of two God Tiers is insane enough that he would have to justify it, and there is no way Karkat Vantas is going to sit at the head of a tactical meeting and explain that he can't be in the same room as his ex and not-ex without wanting to turn himself inside out and submerge himself in a vat of lye. He just-- couldn't live with himself if something happened to them.  
  
(Not that he finds it easy to live with himself when the casualty reports come in, anyway. Karkat Vantas has never been able to numb himself the way he's seen others do. Even if he could, he gets the feeling that it would cheapen whatever it is he's inspired in those who follow him. Karkat wouldn't have the right to order someone to risk their life for him if he wasn't going to _feel_ it when they died. If his conscience was a burden before the war, it is a weight that should by all rights crush him, now. There's no joy in killing, for him, only the grim sense of _what a pointless fucking waste_. To him it feels like a weakness, though Kanaya makes the dubious assertion that it is an essential qualification of his position as leader.)  
  
But the celebratory atmosphere on the bridge was infectious, that day. The tides had been turning in their favour, little by little, those past few months. The live updates on every political broadcast feed were theorising that The Troll Reproduction War would be winding down, with the advantage weighted in the rebellion's favour. More and more humans were calling for peace negotiations, and Karkat allowed himself to glimpse a future where things might actually get _better_, let Meenah pull him into a fierce kiss with too much teeth and too much tongue to be comfortable. He let Swifer and the nearest lieutenant both throw their arms around him in a dangerous hug x2 combo. There was one moment where he entertained the possibility that he might be happy, someday. Or at the very least, _okay._ If the years wore down the sharp edges of regrets enough for him to hold them without hurting, and if he learned to bear the weight of those he'd lost and all he'd failed to do.  
  
It was stupid of him, in hindsight.  
  
He should have seen it. After all, hadn't Jane always worked in the shadows? Pulling the strings from behind the seat of power, never taking a stand herself. Karkat supposes that he'd assumed when all-out war had erupted between their factions, she would do away with pretence, and it would be an honest fight.  
  
Oh, yes, there were _peace talks._

* * *

MEENAH: ok nubs explain it to me again  
MEENAH: you think that walkin up and layin tf down in the anemones lap  
MEENAH: like here i am o wannabe empress crocker  
MEENAH: unarmed  
MEENAH: torso primed an ready for the forkin  
MEENAH: you think T)(ATS how were gonna win this war

KARKAT: WE HAVE BEEN OVER THIS. HOW MANY TIMES ARE WE GOING TO GO OVER THIS? IT WOULD BE GREAT IF YOU COULD LET ME KNOW HOW MANY TIMES I SHOULD PENCIL "POINTLESS CIRCULAR ARGUMENT THAT WON'T CHANGE MY MIND THE SEVENTH TIME YOU BRING IT UP, EITHER" INTO MY CALENDAR!  
KARKAT: I DON'T TRUST HER ANY MORE THAN YOU DO, BUT IT'S NOT *ABOUT* HER. SHE'S DOING THIS ON PURPOSE, SHE EXPECTS US TO TURN HER DOWN.  
KARKAT: AND WHEN WE DO, GUESS WHAT WILL BE ALL OVER THE NEWS? BLOODTHIRSTY TERRORIST CULT LEADER KARKAT VANTAS TAKES A GREAT STEAMING DUMP ALL OVER THE HAND OF FRIENDSHIP! TROLLS ADDICTED TO SENSELESS WAR!  
KARKAT: SUPPORT THE CROCKER CORPS, AND PUT AN END TO THIS POINTLESS BLOODSHED!  
KARKAT: I'M NOT GOING TO PLAY INTO HER HANDS LIKE THAT.

MEENAH: reely cuz it sounds like thats -EXACTLY what youre doin

KARKAT: FINE. LET'S SAY YOU'RE RIGHT, AND IT IS A TRAP. HOW LONG DO YOU THINK THE GENERAL POPULACE IS GOING TO SUPPORT HER SHADOW GOVERNMENT IF SHE STRINGS ME UP AND MAKES AN EXAMPLE OF ME DURING *PEACE* NEGOTIATIONS?  
KARKAT: SOMEHOW I FEEL HER TIRED RHETORIC ABOUT TROLLS BEING RABID, UNCONTROLLABLE ANIMALS WOULD START TO RING FAIRLY HOLLOW. NOT TO MENTION, SHE'D BE TURNING ME INTO A MARTYR, AND SHE IS WELL AWARE THAT MY SPECIES *LOVES* A MARTYR.

MEENAH: still dont bareef what a big deal those suckas make out of vantas  
MEENAH: i mean yea our alt selves were p much awesomer in -EV-ERY way but all he did was say some nerd shit aboat bein nice to each otter an yell fuck reel loud  
MEENAH: you say fuck every day of your life and youre the loudest loudmouth nerd i know  
MEENAH: maybe we should start a cult about you  
MEENAH: be way betta than his dumb loser cult for wrigglers who poop in their pants

KARKAT: OK I'M GOING TO MAKE IT A BLANKET RULE OF THIS WHOLE OPERATION THAT WE DON'T START ANY CULTS, ABOUT ME OR LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE.

MEENAH: man you never let me do anyfin fun

KARKAT: EVERYTHING YOU THINK IS FUN IS BAD.

MEENAH: wrong but stfu  
MEENAH: still glubbin aboat crocker here  
MEENAH: im tellin you ok i know this bitchs angle cuz its the same angle id be usin if i was her an we both know shes always been jackin my swag  
MEENAH: you CANT go

KARKAT: I DON'T REMEMBER GIVING YOU THE AUTHORITY TO ISSUE ME ORDERS ABOUT WHERE I CAN AND CAN'T GO!

MEENAH: oh my COD im not giving you an order im giving a flyin fucking carp about what happens to you  
MEENAH: you know what  
MEENAH: suit yourshellf  
MEENAH: you wanna die then whatever dont know why i fuckin bother  
MEENAH: but dont expect me to help you do it  
MEENAH: im out

It's not until Meenah turns sharply and storms down another tunnel that Karkat realises that was probably a _real_ fight. As in, a genuine article sleeping-on-Rose-and-Kanaya's-couch _fight_ and not the usual back-and-forth he'd gotten accustomed to with her, over the course of their relationship. It's not often that Meenah gets genuinely upset. Annoyed, or pissed, yeah, but upset? If she's upset, it means that she wasn't just digging her heels in because she's a dictator at heart and still kind of needs to be calling the shots.  
  
It means that he's fucked up, and he sort of stands there in the middle of the passage with his mouth hanging open for a while as this sinks in. The stream of rebels going about their business parts respectfully to accomodate him, and nobody really gives him a second glance. It's a reasonably common occurrence, and they're all used to it, by now.   
  
He wants to follow her right then and there and make things right, and he's about to, when his upper arm is caught by one of his tacticians, and he's roped into a circular conversation about his diplomacy skills (or lack thereof) and the importance of not calling the human president a spineless worm with Jane Crocker so far up his wastechute that he resembles a gruesome sock puppet, and not informing him that the only way his body knows how to expel its foul smelling excrement is whenever he opens his mouth. This takes a while.  
  
By the time he's able to extricate himself, Meenah is long gone. The first meeting with Jane and her negotiating team is scheduled in just a few _hours. _Whatever new misgivings he might have, or relationship problems that might be making themselves inconveniently known, there are other people who need his time just now. Why was she picking fights _now_, anyway, when she knows it's already too late to argue about it?  
  
It doesn't feel right, leaving things on a sour note just before a mission-- even one that theoretically carries no physical risk to his person. Looking down the dark tunnel Meenah had disappeared into, he has this absurdly strong conviction that if he doesn't speak to her before he goes, she won't be there when he gets back.  
  
Paranoid bullshit, he thinks, and dismisses it. Their lives are fraught with danger, yes, but with luck-- that would change soon, starting with today. That's what he tells himself, as he goes about organising himself and his chosen lieutenants for the upcoming historic diplomatic endeavour.  
  
An hour before they're due to leave, Rose falls into step beside him.

ROSE: Karkat, do you have a moment?

KARKAT: NOT REALLY. WHAT IS IT?

ROSE: I won't keep you long.  
ROSE: I understand you were intending that Kanaya would accompany you to the peace talks this afternoon. Could I ask you a favor?

KARKAT: UUUUUUUUUGHHH.

Karkat groans, and drags a hand down one side of his face. Rose nods, as if in understanding.

ROSE: Thank you, Karkat, I always know I can count on you.  
ROSE: I want to go with you instead.  
ROSE: I know Kanaya is your best friend, and a key figure in this movement, and I do understand the potential politically dicey implications of having a human negotiate on behalf of the rebellion, but...  
ROSE: I just have a feeling that it's supposed to be me, this time.

KARKAT: I THOUGHT YOU STOPPED HAVING PROPHETIC VISIONS WHEN YOUR THINKPAN STOPPED COLLAPSING LIKE A DYING STAR?  
KARKAT: DON'T TELL ME IT'S STARTED AGAIN? I DON'T THINK WE HAVE THE FACILITIES TO CARE FOR YOU IN THAT STATE, AND I DON'T KNOW IF I COULD WATCH KANAYA GO THROUGH THAT AGAIN.

ROSE: I did, yes.  
ROSE: I don't need to be omniscient to have a gut feeling about something, do I?  
ROSE: It's nice that you care enough to be concerned, however.  
ROSE: I'll see you on the shuttle.

KARKAT: I NEVER SAID YOU WERE COMING!

ROSE: I know. I had a gut feeling, though. ;)

KARKAT: FUCK YOU. WHATEVER! YES, I'LL SEE YOU THERE, BECAUSE I SUPREMELY DO NOT HAVE TIME TO ARGUE ABOUT THIS.

Rose smiles at him with what could be called genuine fondness, if Karkat wasn't half-convinced that all of his interactions with Rose Lalonde are part of some extended joke at his expense. She falls back into the flow of the passersby, then, presumably intending to go inform the rest of their team about the abrupt change of plans.  
  
Swapping out Kanaya for Rose at the last minute does leave him feeling wrong-footed. He's already spent so much time obsessively rehearsing the version with Kanaya in it in his head. What would be the ramifications of bringing Rose, instead? A human on their side of the table might present the image that it isn't merely trolls who are invested in reproductive freedom, might encourage the idea that other species' should care about the outcome of the rebellion, as well. Or it could be a complete disaster, and just further cement the idea that trolls can't, and shouldn't regulate themselves without the intervention of another, less violent species.  
  
Karkat wonders if he's about throw up. He's beginning to feel the pressure in his temples of a wicked tension headache, and he again feels that urgent compulsion to track down and speak with Meenah before he leaves. He sets off at a light jog, deciding that a few of his preliminary responsibilities can be blown off after all.  
  
Ten minutes to departure, and he is still wandering the caves they've been calling home for the past six months, looking for Meenah. It had been a close call, getting away unscathed after Jane's Imperial Drones had flushed Karkat's rebellion out of the central catacombs underneath the troll capital. The caves they live in now are close to their border with the Consort Kingdom, and were originally a safe haven for the Mother Grub alone. (Kanaya had felt that keeping their most vulnerable asset and what was essentially the beating heart of the rebellion so close to the front lines was simply asking for someone to blow it up. Karkat had agreed.)  
  
The few jadebloods who'd stayed to care for the Mother Grub hardly knew what to do when the bulk of Karkat's army came pouring into the caves. Those first few months were honestly absolute chaos, just a total fucking disaster that Karkat has been working to repress the memory of. The temporary brooding caverns were unlit, damp, and humid. They were natural formed limestone caves and even more labyrinthine than their first hideaway, which was no small achievement.  
  
Living in the caves hasn't been so bad lately, though. It had gotten better after they'd dug out the residential tunnels and installed fixtures essential to the long-term functioning of an underground rebel movement, like lights, and bathrooms.  
  
(Meenah had threatened to organise a hostile mutiny-- are you searious i am NOT shittin in a coddamn hole OH WELL LET ME JUST BOOK A CONSULTATION WITH A FUCKING PLUMBER!!! WOULD YOU LIKE A GOLD OR POLISHED MARBLE GAPER TO SHIT IN YOUR IMPERIAL HIGHNESS?! uh GOLD duh its like you dont even know me \--if the bathroom situation wasn't taken care of. Of course, Meenah threatens mutiny when Karkat doesn't pass the Imitation Grubsauce at dinner, but in that situation he wasn't inclined to argue with her overmuch.)  
  
The Mother Grub is still being cared for in the unlit, unaltered section of the caves. Down there, the first natural born trolls would be hatched. In fact, they could do it right now, if they want-- and whether or not they should has been an ongoing argument. The seemingly infinite rain of ghosts stopped around a year ago, shortly after the war began, and with the casualties mounting, their ranks are beginning to dwindle. And won't it be the ultimate act of rebellion, to go right ahead and start rebuilding, right under the government's ugly nose?  
  
The only problem with that is no one feels especially jazzed about bringing a bunch of newborn grubs up to become cannon fodder in a war for their right to exist. If these peace talks go well, Karkat thinks, that will be one ethical dilemma they'll all be glad to stop wrestling with.  
  
He skirts around a speleothem and starts down a particularly dark and ominous passageway.

KANAYA: Shouldnt You Be Heading For The Shuttle

Karkat jumps, propelled by the force of several months' pent-up nervous energy, and nearly bashes his brains out on a stalactite.

KARKAT: OH MY *GOD*!

KANAYA: Oh Sorry  
KANAYA: Here

The tunnel is illuminated with a gentle, white glow as Kanaya triggers whatever internal switch controls her bioluminescence. Karkat sighs, and tugs at the fastener of his cloak.

KARKAT: YEAH. I SHOULD.

KANAYA: Is There Some Reason Why Youre Not Doing That  
KANAYA: Did Rose Talk To You Yet

KARKAT: IT DOESN'T MATTER. JUST MY REGULAR NEUROSES MANIFESTING IN THE FORM OF AN INTENSE DESIRE TO GET LOST IN A VAMPIRE STUDDED LABYRINTH. WE CAN TALK WHILE WE HEAD BACK.  
KARKAT: ROSE TOLD ME YOU WON'T BE COMING TO THE PEACE TALKS.

KANAYA: Thats Right  
KANAYA: It Was Her Idea  
KANAYA: I Argued At First But She Was Quite Set On Going  
KANAYA: And To Be Honest  
KANAYA: I Suspect Those Chosen To Attend Are The Ones To Have Drawn The Short Frond  
KANAYA: The Less I See Janes Face Or Hear Her Words The Better

KARKAT: HAHAHA.  
KARKAT: YEAH, YOU'RE PROBABLY RIGHT.  
KARKAT: ...

There's a pause, then, as they pick their way through the tunnels, over uneven footing and through limestone structures that somebody who could appreciate that sort of thing might have thought were beautiful. Kanaya doesn't say anything, but Karkat has the impression she's waiting for him to speak.

KARKAT: WHAT DO YOU THINK?  
KARKAT: ABOUT THE PEACE TALKS? ABOUT... ENDING THIS WAR?

KANAYA: I Think  
KANAYA: That I Would Like To See The Sun Again  
KANAYA: That Must Sound So Trivial  
KANAYA: But Its The Trivial Things I Miss  
KANAYA: Its Not That Im Not Happy  
KANAYA: I Have Rose  
KANAYA: I Have My Daughter  
KANAYA: I Have You  
KANAYA: And I Find No Cause More Fulfilling Or Essential Than The One Our Movement Is Based On  
KANAYA: Its Just  
KANAYA: It Would Be Nice  
KANAYA: If I Didnt Have To Fight So Hard To Keep Those Things  
KANAYA: I Know Rose Appreciates The Conflict In Her Way  
KANAYA: She Likes To Have A Challenge That Must Be Overcome  
KANAYA: But I Dont Believe This War Is The Only Place We Might Find A Sense Of Purpose  
KANAYA: There Are Other Goals One May Strive For

There's another pause. Karkat glances to one side, and is startled to see a translucent green tear making its way down Kanaya's face, shimmering in the light she gives off.

KANAYA: Ive Been Thinking About This Quite A Bit Lately  
KANAYA: Ever Since Swifer

Karkat swallows against the hard lump in his throat. It has been nearly a month since Swifer was executed. His sweet, vaguely incompetent assistant was one of the losses that had hit him hardest during the war effort. There was nobody who deserved death less than dear, precious Swifer Eggmop. Her televised execution hadn't been popular even among the xenophobe crowd; there was just nothing offensive _about_ her. It was like culling a baby quackbeast, and had been a PR nightmare for the government.  
  
The worst part is he's sure it was only publicised so _he_ would see it. To hurt him. And it had worked. Did he ever tell her that he appreciated her, even once?

KARKAT: YEAH  
KARKAT: I GET YOU COMPLETELY.  
KARKAT: IT FEELS LIKE SUCH BULLSHIT TO ME THAT WE WENT THROUGH ALL THOSE YEARS OF FIGHTING AND DYING AND GETTING SCREWED EIGHT DIFFERENT WAYS UP THE WASTE SPHINCTER BY THE TWIN THROBBING BULGES OF FATE AND DESTINY THAT HAVE SO THOROUGHLY MADE US THEIR BITCH, JUST TO END UP STRUGGLING TO SURVIVE UNDER A TYRANNICAL QUASI-DICTATOR. AGAIN.  
KARKAT: I MEAN, IT FEELS ALMOST... CONTRIVED? SHE *LITERALLY* HAS *IMPERIAL DRONES*, KANAYA! WHAT THE FUCK!

KANAYA: Yeah I Agree  
KANAYA: What The Fuck Is Pretty Much The Only Thing You Can Say To That

KARKAT: WHICH JUST BRINGS ME BACK TO HER HYPOCRISY...  
KARKAT: LIKE, DOES SHE NOT REALISE IT? IS SHE THAT DELUDED? OR DOES SHE THINK WE'RE TOO STUPID TO SEE IT? SHE CRITICISES ALTERNIA FOR BEING A COSMIC HOTBED OF DEBAUCHERY AND SAVAGERY EVERY CHANCE SHE GETS, BUT EVERYTHING SHE DOES IS PLAGIARISED RIGHT FROM THE PAGES OF ALTERNIA'S HISTORY!

KANAYA: I Know  
KANAYA: And Normally I Would Love To Spend The Rest Of My Evening Talking About Jane Crockers Innumerable Faults  
KANAYA: And How Fortuitous It Would Be If She Were To Trip On Her Alarmingly Fashionable Pumps And Fracture Her Cervical Column While Ascending The Podium For Another Propaganda Conference  
KANAYA: But Theyre Waiting For You Karkat

KARKAT: OH.

Rose Lalonde, and two other lieutenants, Zircar and Haldek, do indeed appear to be waiting for Karkat. The tunnel he and Kanaya have been walking down opens up into a spacious, airy cave that has come to be known among them all as the shuttle cave, for obvious reasons. It's filled with small to moderately sized transport crafts. (The warships would never fit, and there would be no point bringing them all the way out into the sticks, anyway. They have a place for them, and the majority of their weaponry closer to the capital.)

KARKAT: RIGHT.  
KARKAT: WELL  
KARKAT: I GUESS  
KARKAT: ARE YOU GUYS READY TO WIN THIS WAR, AND... GO BACK TO WHATEVER BORING CRAP IT WAS YOU WERE DOING BEFORE ALL OF THIS ABSURD CRYPTO-FASCIST RUBBISH BEGAN?

ROSE: After that rousing endorsement, I believe I'm ready for anything, Commander.

Karkat makes an obscene hand gesture in Rose's general direction, and then steps onto the transport shuttle. Rose and their compatriots follow suit, and shortly afterward they're in the air, the wild landscape flashing by underneath. The engines on the shuttles were always kind of noisy, there wasn't much they could do about that, given the limitations of building all your ships from scrounged and stolen garbage. By now, they're all so used to it that the sound barely registers.  
  
Today, though, the rattle and mechanical whine of the engine sets Karkat's teeth on edge.


	2. the ride's over, i know (but i'm not ready to go)

_Zap._  
  
The curtain of reality pulls back to let you through, and you step right into hell. It’s a howling maelstrom of color and sound and the screams of those discarded by Paradox Space, incinerated and drawn inexorably into the center of it all. The dark, sucking void of the cherub’s black hole. The reason you’re here at all.  
  
The space around you seems to recoil from you being here, hairline fractures in the fabric of everything spiderweb away from the places your feet touch the ground. The air around you fizzles, as if with electricity, and you smell ozone, taste metal. You have to focus to stay tethered to the now.  
  
You understand that your very presence here weakens the foundations of the pillars of truth, essentialism, and relevance. Every move you make has the cracks spreading further. Change too much, and they’d crumble to dust, and not just inside the singularity. The consequences of such a thing are difficult for you to conceptualise in a way that's communicable. Reality becomes unstuck in a way even more complete than in the sugar-glass bubble. Everything loses its shape, free to drift and change beyond anyone’s ability to recognise it as what it was once before.  
  
You are not supposed to be here, but there’s just one thing you’re here to do. One change, one crack in the foundations, one concession to the degradation of canon. The one you came here for spreads their wings, bathing the tattered remains of reality in the flickering light.  
  
In the sequence of events where you do nothing, Davepeta is destroyed in the shockwave that accompanies Lord English’s death throes. Burned up like a piece of fucking garbage in the center of the sun. It’s their destiny, and a narratively satisfying conclusion to their personal arc. You almost second-guess your decision, wondering if it would be possible for Davepeta to reach this kind of apotheosis ever again, after you intervene. Then again, with Nepeta as the Rogue of Heart, they’re in a better position than most when it comes to achieving self actualisation.  
  
> Spare Davepeta.   
  
_Zap._  
  
You appear just behind them, on the lip of the event horizon.  


DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < hey!  
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < dont efurn think about it!!

You ignore them, and the stab of guilt. This isn’t even really about Davepeta. If reality was a game of Jenga, Davepeta just happened to be the jutting, non-weight-bearing block you were able to slide out of place without bringing the whole lopsided tower down.

You grip their shoulders, and the light from their wings on either side of you is blinding. In the split second that all three of you hover over the event horizon, in that in-between state of both relevance and non relevance, before your power is sucked away, you do it.

_Zap._

You haven’t moved; but now there are only two of you still hovering over that no-man’s land. Just a single second into the future, in time for both you and Davepeta to hear Lord English’s scream taper and cut off, the residual momentum carrying him that last inch past the point of no return. You sink the eight ball, and win.  


DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < NO!!!

Davepeta’s yowl is anguished, as if they were watching their moment of ultimate cosmic fulfillment swirl away into oblivion along with the cherub, which you guess they are. You feel really shitty about that, actually. You like Davepeta. It’s not like you enjoy taking this moment from them. It’s just that they’re uniquely poised to change things in the way that you can’t, without further compromising the integrity of the narrative.

You wouldn’t be doing this at all if you didn’t care. 

You know that when you hit the ground on the other side of the singularity, you will die. You also know that death is hardly a meaningful concept when applied to yourself. Death will remove you from this reality, and your capacity to influence it directly, but death is not the end, for whatever you are. You’re not sure how to describe what you are, actually. There is a vagueness to it, a distinct lack of _distinctiveness_, and even casual examination of the subject has new fractures opening up in the structure of everything you're trying to preserve. The sooner you're gone, the better.

> Let go.   


YOU: Sorry, Davepeta.  
YOU: Good luck.

You shove Davepeta away from you before they can lash out with their claws, and close your eyes. You’re aware of their angry scream, a sound like rushing air in a narrow tunnel, and the smell of burnt sugar. Then nothing.


	3. they say if they'd got the victory (they'd act with so much more humility)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to dani @trickstered for helping me with rose ur the best

ROSE: That was...

KARKAT: SURPRISINGLY PAINLESS, ACTUALLY?

Karkat steps out of the gleaming, air-conditioned foyer of one of Jane's innumerable corporate skyscrapers. The sunlight feels like being poked hard in the eye, and Karkat winces, raising a hand to shield it from the glare. Up ahead, Zircar and Haldek make a direct beeline for their shuttle, which appears particularly shabby, parked in amongst the sleek, aerodynamic models provided to government officials.

Rose, however, does not head for the shuttle, instead making a slight turn, moving to stand in a small alcove between a laundromat and a Crocker-branded cutlery purveyor. Karkat is tempted to leave her behind, but the meaningful look she gives him suggests that it would be a mistake if he tried. Avoiding a talk with Rose Lalonde, if she's set on having it, is a task no one has yet managed to figure out how to achieve.

He follows her, and out of the flow of people, she seamlessly picks up the thread of their conversation.

ROSE: Yes.  
ROSE: Between you and me, I didn't have a good feeling about these negotiations at all.

KARKAT: YOU TOO???  
KARKAT: I WAS ABOUT READY TO BE SICK BY THE TIME WE ACTUALLY GOT STARTED.  
KARKAT: I GUESS MEENAH GOT TO ME. THERE'S ONLY SO MANY TIMES YOU CAN HEAR SOMEONE TELL YOU YOU'RE WALKING INTO A TRAP WITHOUT STARTING TO SECOND GUESS YOURSELF, ESPECIALLY IF THAT SOMEONE HAS A FRIGHTENINGLY UNCANNY ABILITY TO PREDICT THE CORPORATE MACHINATIONS OF CROCKER'S TWISTED MIND. AND SHE SEEMED SO SURE.  
KARKAT: WHEN THEY USHERED US INTO THAT CONFERENCE ROOM I WAS GENUINELY CONCERNED SOMEONE WAS GOING TO PULL A CURTAIN TO REVEAL CROCKER'S PATENTED COMBINATION FLOGGING JUT AND HOME STAND MIXER, NOW WITH BLUETOOTH!  
KARKAT: AND THEN WE'D ALL BE THIS WEEK'S STARS IN THE POPULAR INFORMERCIAL SERIES _NOW YOU'RE COOKING WITH CAPITAL PUNISHMENT_ IN FRONT OF A LIVE STUDIO AUDIENCE THAT OFFERS CANNED LAUGHTER AS I'M BEATEN TO DEATH WITH A WOODEN SPOON, AND MY TEARS OF AGONY ARE PROBABLY USED TO MAKE FUCKING STRAWBERRY MERINGUE.

ROSE: Karkat, don't be ridiculous.  
ROSE: Jane would never release a home appliance capable of bluetooth connectivity.  
ROSE: Why, somebody might use it to connect to a device that wasn't manufactured by Crockercorp! A subscription-based network, locked to company products and vastly inferior in its utility, however...

KARKAT: I KNOW. IT WAS A NIGHTMARE I HAD ONCE.  
KARKAT: IT'S IRRELEVANT ANYWAY. IT'S LIKE I SAID, THEIR HANDS ARE TIED. WE HAVE THE EDGE ON THE OPEN WARFARE SIDE OF THINGS, AND IF THEY DON'T PLAY THEIR CARDS RIGHT NOW THEY'LL LOSE THE POLITICAL EDGE THEY HAVE OVER US, TOO.  
KARKAT: PEOPLE ARE STILL UPSET ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED TO SWIFER. IT'S NOT LOOKING GOOD FOR THEM.

ROSE: Hmmm.

Rose looks thoughtful, and not entirely convinced.

ROSE: It's strange, being here, isn't it?

KARKAT: ROSE, WE WERE HERE LAST MONTH.

ROSE: Don't be so disingenuous. I'm standing in the heart of the human capital and there are no laser cannons, rocket launchers, or miscellaneous science-fiction based artillery aimed even remotely in my direction. I would call the cognitive dissonance rather potent.

Karkat sighs, and his gaze follows the sweeping gesture Rose makes at their distinctly non-violent surroundings, squinting against the glare of the sun. If he's honest with himself, it would have been weird to find himself in the Human Kingdom even before the war. He rarely worked up the wherewithal to make the journey to the shitty pizza joint at the end of his own street, much less to visit any other kingdom unless personally dragged there.

KARKAT: ... YEAH. IT IS WEIRD.  
KARKAT: I KIND OF HATE IT, AS A MATTER OF FACT. THIS FEELS SO EXPOSED. LIKE, WHAT COULD I EVEN DO IF AN IMPERIAL DRONE SHOWED UP RIGHT NOW, EXCEPT HOPE TO PISS MYSELF WITH ENOUGH FORCE THAT IT LAUNCHES ME INTO THE SKY LIKE A PARTICULARLY UNSANITARY ROCKET?  
KARKAT: AND IT'S SO... BRIGHT.  
KARKAT: I FEEL BAD FOR LEAVING KANAYA BEHIND, NOW. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME SHE GOT TO STAND OUTSIDE IN THE DAYLIGHT?

ROSE: Well, if what was said during that meeting is to be believed, she is now legally permitted to go outside again. The bounty on known members of the resistance was, allegedly, lifted this morning.

_Allegedly,_ Karkat thinks. In some ways, it would have been preferable if it all had been some sort of trick, a cheap ploy to get them into enemy territory. That would have been a simple problem, with a simple solution. Karkat is pretty much an expert in fighting for his life, by now. But negotiating the end of the war and the dissolution of the resistance carries a weight Karkat isn't sure he's equipped to deal with.

KARKAT: IT'S BOTHERING ME.

Rose raises her eyebrows.

KARKAT: IT MIGHT NOT HAVE BEEN THE SORT OF TRAP MEENAH THOUGHT IT WAS, BUT I'M NOT FOOLISH ENOUGH TO BELIEVE THAT THIS OLIVE BRANCH REPRESENTS GENUINE GOOD INTENTIONS.  
KARKAT: THIS WAS A CALCULATED DECISION. A TACTICAL MOVE. THERE IS AN AGENDA HERE, BUT I CAN'T SEE WHAT IT IS.  
KARKAT: ROSE, IF YOU TELL ANYONE I SAID THIS, *ESPECIALLY* MEENAH, I WILL PERSONALLY REACH DOWN YOUR THROAT, TEAR OUT YOUR SQUAWK BLISTER, AND SHIT DOWN YOUR SPASMING SWALLOW CHUTE, BUT  
KARKAT: I'M NOT SURE I MADE THE RIGHT CHOICE IN AGREEING TO THIS.

ROSE: Was it a choice?  
ROSE: I don’t mean to be melodramatic or belittle your anxiety here, but sincerely: could you have made another choice?  
ROSE: Had we not come, you would be a war monger. At least, as far as the press is concerned.  
ROSE: I don't believe the resistance could function, if you donned such a bloody mantle. I know you have a tendency to go selectively deaf whenever someone mentions it in your hearing, but these people are fighting for *you*, Karkat. They believe in what you've come to represent.  
ROSE: Jane knows this as well as anyone, and has clearly chosen to exploit that for the purpose of some covert political manoeuvring. I expect she found direct hostilities to be beyond her comfort zone. Not to mention, she needs public favor as much as we do.  
ROSE: My point is, we need people on our side, and so do they. It's a mutual catch twenty-two.

KARKAT: I LITERALLY WOULD HAVE PREFERRED THE FLOGGING JUT.

ROSE: I don't believe this will be easy territory to navigate. This is Jane's playing field, after all.  
ROSE: That being said, it's hardly as bad as you seem to think. You won't be doing this alone.

KARKAT: THAT'S THE PROBLEM THOUGH.  
KARKAT: I DON'T THINK I'M THE RIGHT GUY, TO SIT THERE AND MAKE DECISIONS ABOUT WHAT THE FUTURE OF MY SPECIES SHOULD LOOK LIKE.  
KARKAT: I'M NOT A POLITICIAN, OR A BUSINESS GUY. I'M NOT LIKE YOU. IT MIGHT SHOCK YOU TO HEAR, BUT SUBTLETY ISN'T MY STRONG POINT.  
KARKAT: IT WOULD BE BAD ENOUGH IF MY POTENTIAL MISTAKES ONLY IMPACTED ME, OR PEOPLE WHO ALREADY UNDERSTOOD AND ACCEPTED THE RISK THEY WERE TAKING BY GETTING INVOLVED.  
KARKAT: BUT IF I FUCK UP NOW, IT COULD HAVE UNINTENDED CONSEQUENCES SPANNING ANOTHER FIVE THOUSAND YEARS. I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN DO THAT.

Rose purses her lips and looks as though she's trying to hold back on saying something impatient. There's a pause before her next words, and when they come, they are careful and measured.

ROSE: Karkat, do you think you're the only person who's afraid of making a mistake? Or the only person who has the capacity to make them?  
ROSE: I just said you won't be doing this alone. A perfect outcome is unlikely, certainly, but why don't we try aiming for "better", first?

KARKAT: FIRST OF ALL--

ROXY: rose!!!!!!!

Whatever sprawling metaphor Karkat was about to craft to describe how offended he is by Rose's perfectly reasonable statement goes unsaid, as a very out-of breath Roxy Lalonde collides with his shoulder as she barrels past him. The impact has him lurching to one side into the concrete wall beside him, and his exclamation of _FUCK_ is so loud that a few people on the other side of the street poke their heads out of their respective establishments to see what's going on.

ROXY: oops sorry karkat  
ROXY: didnt mean to blindside you

Was that a--

KARKAT: WAS THAT A FUCKING *JOKE*?!

ROXY: ummmm  
ROXY: no? actually i forgot abt ur eye  
ROXY: wow lets start over bc this foot were gettin off on fuckin sux

ROSE: Hi, Roxy.

Karkat considers throwing a shitfit about it anyway, but there's an awkward tension in the air when Roxy takes another tiny step towards Rose. Her arms lift at her sides a little, like she wants to go in for a hug. She hovers like that for a moment, still breathing hard from her apparent mad dash to get here. Rose's expression is stiff, unreadable. She doesn't move.

Karkat decides to keep his mouth shut, for the moment.

Roxy's shoulders slump, and she drops her arms. Her hands link together in front of her torso, as though to keep them from doing anything else. Rose takes a step back.

ROXY: look i  
ROXY: i know i havent done right by you or naya at all  
ROXY: i owe you an apology  
ROXY: im sorry i didnt have ur back when u needed me

Karkat gets the sense that he has abruptly become the interloper in this conversation.

ROSE: I understand.  
ROSE: It's hard when the people you love aren't who you thought they were.

Roxy winces. Rose seems to waver for a moment, and then sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

ROSE: That wasn't... I wasn't talking about you.  
ROSE: Did you run all the way here just to apologise?

ROXY: i mean i flew most of the way but yea kinda  
ROXY: ur p hard to track down what w/ being a fugitive  
ROXY: or former fugitive i guess thanks 2 recent developments  
ROXY: and sure theres more id want to talk about than just that but maybe not standing around out here?  
ROXY: seems like theres a lot of ppl lookin at us rn

ROSE: All right.  
ROSE: Karkat and I were just about finished, if you don't mind coming back to the shuttle with us? Our compatriots will be missing us, by now, and our Commander’s delicate flesh is beginning to sizzle under the lukewarm afternoon sun.

KARKAT: EXCUSE ME, I WAS *NOT* FINISHED!!

ROXY: np

KARKAT: UGH.

Despite his attitude, Karkat is relieved to step into the relative darkness of the shuttle, and out of sight of the curious bystanders eyeing up the as-yet-unheard-of spectacle of Commander Vantas, standing in the middle of the street in broad daylight. Zircar and Haldek break off whatever conversation they had been having and stand to attention in a hurried sort of way. Karkat has told them, repeatedly, that they don't have to do that. He's starting to think his subordinates act this way for the fun of it.

ZIRCAR: oh, there you are, comma^der. we were wonderi^g where you'd go^e.

KARKAT: WE DIDN'T GO ANYWHERE. ROSE JUST WANTED TO MILL ABOUT ON THE STREET FOR A WHILE AND WASTE EVERYONE'S TIME, AND WHO WAS I TO DENY HER THAT??? NOBODY, THAT'S WHO. I CAN THINK OF NO TASK MORE WORTHY OF MY ATTENTION THAN INDULGING EVERY INSCRUTABLE WHIM OF MY BEST FRIEND’S HUMAN SPOUSE AND HER IMPINGING GENETIC SIMILARS!

HALDEK: // You're absolutely right, sir. //

KARKAT: NO, I'M FUCKING NOT!!!!!!!!

ROXY: (psst r these dudes gonna b here the whole time)

Roxy whispers to Karkat behind her hand, interrupting his emphatic double facepalm. He kind of wants to say yes, because he has no love for Roxy Lalonde and is in the sort of mood to be petty and belligerent. Only the possibility that she came here with sensitive information is enough to have him bite back the scathing retort he wants to make. She used to be reasonably close with Crocker, he knows, though it’s been a while since they appeared together in the media— perhaps she’s finally chosen a side?

He should probably listen to what she has to say before deciding whose ears it happens to be appropriate for.

KARKAT: LOOK, I NEED YOU TWO TO WAIT OUTSIDE FOR A FEW MINUTES. CAN YOU HANDLE THAT?

Neither of them appear especially thrilled about it, but they don't offer any protest before shuffling back out into the daylight. Rose, Roxy and Karkat move to sit down in the recently vacated seating, around a low table in the middle of the room. Even the inside of the shuttle seems like a pile of junk. At least the seats aren't too bad, scavenged from the remains of antiquated and obsolete human technology, “cars”.

ROSE: So.

ROXY: soooo

KARKAT: SO, WHAT? WHAT WAS SO "IMPORTANT" AND "TOP SECRET" THAT YOU HAD TO DASH ALL THE WAY HERE AND EXILE TWO OF MY BEST LIEUTENANTS FROM THEIR OWN SHIP???

ROXY: hey i didnt tell em to leave i just asked a question  
ROXY: its not secret or anythin its just a bit personal and i dont know those guys

KARKAT: PERSONAL????

ROXY: well its been a long time since we talked  
ROXY: and yea i FULLY get thats my own fault dw im not pointin fingers @ any 1  
ROXY: dont you wanna like  
ROXY: catch up a lil?

She has got to be fucking kidding.

KARKAT: ABSOLUTELY NOT.

ROSE: How is Harry Anderson? Vriska tells me his father has made a reappearance in his life. He must be happy.

KARKAT: ROSE, WHAT IN THE NAME OF MY QUIVERING, SWOLLEN TAINT BLISTER MAKES YOU THINK WE HAVE TIME FOR THIS???

ROSE: I think Karkat would appreciate hearing any updates you might have on John, as well. He worries about him.

KARKAT: WORDS GENUINELY CANNOT BEGIN TO DESCRIBE HOW MUCH I HATE YOU.

ROSE: Oh, shut up.

ROXY: o harrys been great actually he n john n jake n tavros have this cute lil hiking trip they go on every weekend & its all he talks about  
ROXY: idk that much about john hes got his own stuff goin on but he seems happier lately  
ROXY: think he said smth about seein like  
ROXY: a doctor

KARKAT: WAIT, WHAT? IS HE SICK?

ROXY: um no not that sort of doctor

ROSE: Ah. I'm happy for him.

ROXY: what about you? how have you been… holding up?

ROSE: Fine.

ROXY: oh  
ROXY: and kanaya?

ROSE: She’s fine, too.

ROXY: thats great  
ROXY: haha

ROSE: Yes.

ROXY: g…ood

All right. Karkat understands what’s going on here, now. Roxy must have been sent by one of the Crocker loyalists with orders to subject him to psychological torture so heinous that he’s left with no recourse but to self-administer a lobotomy with the blunt end of his sickle, rendering him incapable of negotiating on behalf of the resistance and clearing the way for Crocker’s pawns to codify the eradication of the troll species into law uncontested.

It’s working, too. Rose is sitting up so straight and uncomfortable, it looks like someone replaced her spine with a culling fork. Roxy, meanwhile, keeps fidgeting, and the faded pleather seat makes tiny squeaking noises when she does. Karkat would like to think that the ship itself is crying out in pain, crushed beneath the weight of the oppressive awkwardness bearing down on all present. He cannot fucking take this anymore.

KARKAT: NOT THAT THIS EXCHANGE ISN’T THE MOST INTELLECTUALLY TITILLATING THING I’VE EVER BEEN FORCED TO SIT THROUGH, BUT CAN WE *PLEASE* GET TO THE FUCKING POINT?

Roxy looks at him like she can’t decide whether to be annoyed by the question, or relieved by the interruption.

ROXY: ? what point?  
ROXY: idk what you thought i was gettin at but this IS the point  
ROXY: i missed rose and i missed kanaya  
ROXY: tbh i even missed your rude as shit tantrums in the bg after a while  
ROXY: i want to know whats been going on in your life?

She shoots a glance at Rose, and then back at Karkat.

ROXY: the things i was missing out on  
ROXY: because of the political sitch  
ROXY: or the war i guess if you wanna do away with euphemisms

Karkat cannot believe what he is hearing. Grudging respect for Rose's more significant beef with Roxy has had him holding back since the patently insane suggestion that they all _catch up_, but being directly addressed in such a familiar and-- to his mind, downright patronising way is enough to push him over the edge. 

KARKAT: ROXY, WHAT THE *FUCK* GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO KNOW *ANYTHING* ABOUT *MY* LIFE? NO, REALLY, I'M CURIOUS!  
KARKAT: OH, SURE, YOU APOLOGISED. DO YOU THINK AN APOLOGY CUTS IT? PERSONALLY, I'M NOT INCLINED TO ACCEPT IT. NOT THAT YOU ASKED.  
KARKAT: THERE'S ONLY SO MANY TIMES I'M WILLING TO SIT THROUGH THE IMPLICATION THAT MY ENTIRE SPECIES' REPRODUCTIVE FUTURE IS LITTLE MORE THAN A MINOR INCONVENIENCE WHEN STACKED UP AGAINST THE POSSIBILITY THAT YOU MIGHT HAVE TO HAVE AN UNCOMFORTABLE CONVERSATION WITH SOMEONE YOU CONSIDER A FRIEND!  
KARKAT: AFTER AROUND THE FIFTIETH TIME I GET BRUSHED OFF AS A DRAMA-BELCHING LUNATIC, I START TO FEEL AS THOUGH THAT SAYS SOMETHING ABOUT THE LEVEL OF GRAVITY YOU ASSIGN TO THE SLOW ANNIHILATION OF MY PEOPLE, NOT TO MENTION WHAT IT SAYS ABOUT YOUR AMOUNT OF RESPECT FOR ME AS AN INDIVIDUAL.  
KARKAT: I CAN'T RECALL. DID YOUR "APOLOGY" MENTION ANYTHING ABOUT THAT? IN FACT, DID YOU EVEN ONCE UTTER THE WORDS "HEY, SORRY ABOUT THAT, KARKAT!", BECAUSE IT SOUNDS MORE LIKE YOU EXPECT ME TO TAKE THE ONE YOU GAVE TO ROSE AND MAKE THE INDEPENDENT ASSUMPTION THAT YOU UNDERSTAND WHY I MIGHT BE PISSED OFF AT YOU AT ALL!  
KARKAT: NOT ONLY THAT, BUT THIS "YOU'RE SO HARD TO TRACK DOWN" SHIT? I DON'T BUY IT!  
KARKAT: THERE ARE COUNTLESS WAYS TO CONTACT THE RESISTANCE IF YOU HAVE THE GENUINE INTENT OF COMMUNICATING WITH US. HOW THE FUCK ELSE DO YOU THINK WE FIND NEW RECRUITS? GATHER INTEL? THERE ARE POSTERS *EVERYWHERE* WITH *MY* FACE ON THEM THAT FEATURE AN ITEMISED LIST OF WAYS TO COMMUNICATE WITH US!  
KARKAT: EXCEPT, OH WAIT. THAT MIGHT HAVE REQUIRED A LITTLE EFFORT ON YOUR PART, AND A MINUSCULE SLIVER OF PERSONAL RISK. YOU ONLY CAME RUNNING TO TALK TO US TODAY BECAUSE YOU KNEW THERE WOULDN'T BE ANY CONSEQUENCES.  
KARKAT: WELL, FUCK YOUR FAIR-WEATHER RUBBISH. I'M NOT DOING THIS. YOU DON'T GET TO HAVE YOUR GRUBLOAF DURING THE WAR AND EAT IT ONCE THE SMOKE CLEARS!  
KARKAT: I'LL BE KEEPING MY "RUDE AS SHIT TANTRUMS" (GREAT WAY OF LETTING A GUY KNOW HOW MUCH YOU RESPECT HIM!!) TO MYSELF, AND I PERSONALLY INVITE YOU TO EAT SHIT.

Both Rose and Roxy open their mouth at regular intervals during Karkat’s impassioned tirade, but he doesn’t stop, simply talking over the top of them. It doesn’t occur to him that he should think for a moment, before burning this particular bridge, or even that it might not be his bridge to burn. By the end of it, Roxy is silent, eyes wide, face white. Her hands are curled into fists on her knees, and there’s half a second where Karkat wonders if she might take a swing at him.

It doesn’t last, though. She sighs, and drops her gaze from his remaining eye, choosing to focus on a particularly frayed patch of seating by her left thigh. She’s quiet, like that, for a long moment. Pensive.

ROXY: ... huh  
ROXY: ok then  
ROXY: i dont know how to explain myself to you karkat  
ROXY: tbh im not even sure its appropriate to give you my sob story and the justifications behind every decision ive ever made  
ROXY: esp when its clear youve already made up your mind about what u think of me  
ROXY: i can see this was a mistake  
ROXY: i think im just gonna go

KARKAT: I THINK YOU SHOULD.

ROSE: Roxy, wait.

ROXY: ?

KARKAT: ?!

ROSE: If you're comfortable with it, I'd like to have a telephone number to reach you by.  
ROSE: If you'd still like to... "catch up”.

ROXY: oh!  
ROXY: yeah! yeah of course!!!

Karkat, a little out of breath from his verbal explosion, doesn't stick around to listen to the rest. He stands up and makes his way to the shuttle bridge, which really barely even deserves to be called a bridge, with hardly enough room for a pilot and a copilot to sit side by side. Karkat busies himself with the mundanity of the pre-flight routine. He doesn't look up, when he hears the passenger doors open and close, nor when Zircar and Haldek's questioning voices issue from the other side of the flimsy fuselage behind him. He doesn't look up, when somebody steps through the automatic door to join him. He very determinedly does not look up when Rose Lalonde settles herself in the co-pilot's seat and fixes him with a look withering enough to rival Kanaya Maryam's worst.

KARKAT: WHAT.

ROSE: I understand that you will undergo violent spontaneous combustion should you ever find yourself in a situation where you aren't the angriest person in the room, but has it ever occurred to you to think about what you say before it leaves your mouth?

KARKAT: DON'T YOU DARE--

ROSE: Putting aside the social faux pas of making my quasi-reconciliation with my mother all about yourself, and disregarding the admittedly clumsy manner in which she fumbled her olive branch, I seriously want to know if you spared even a moment to consider who has had Roxy's ear for the better part of the past decade, before you went ahead with alienating her completely? You know who I'm talking about.

Jane Crocker, of course. It's not difficult for Karkat to follow Rose's train of thought. Crocker's former _best friend_ (or favorite sycophant, thinks Karkat) could offer them their best chance at deciphering her intentions in pushing these peace talks. Still, Karkat doesn't feel he was totally out of line-- it's not like anything he said was _untrue_, as far as he's aware. He said it a lot more loudly and with more feeling than polite conversation typically demands, but Roxy still hadn't given him so much as a "my bad", had she? She'd opted to peace out of the situation entirely, she hadn't even had anything to _say_ for herself. It does nothing to alter his impression that Roxy Lalonde is a _coward_.

Karkat has the sense that Rose would firmly disagree with that assessment, in spite of everything. He can't understand why. Perhaps it made the disappointment sting all the more for Rose, believing Roxy to be capable of better, and watching her choose inaction instead.

KARKAT: DOES IT MATTER NOW? IT'S DONE.

ROSE: I suppose it doesn't.

* * *

The return flight to the caves is a silent one, save for the familiar rattle of the engine. Maybe it's the lack of adrenalin, or just the lack of conversation, but it feels like it takes much longer than the initial journey had. Karkat is left in the uncomfortable position of being alone with his own thoughts for more than a few minutes at a stretch. There is never any shortage of doubts, anxieties, or unspoken resentments for him to dwell on, but today provides him with a particularly rich bounty of discontent.

For all the variety, though, there is one feeling that underscores it all— his fight with Meenah, his political floundering, his outburst at Roxy. Everything he's said or done in the past day-night cycle.

Dread.

It gets stronger, the closer to home they get. By the time he guides the craft carefully through the wide mouth of the shuttle cave for a landing, he’s nauseated with it. He’s fucked something up, today. He’s certain. There was a choice, somewhere, and he’s made the wrong one. That’s why, when all the debriefings and pleasantries and welcome-back-Commanders are done, and he returns to his respite cave, he’s not surprised by the note on his desk, beside the ornate military regalia decorated in tyrian pink. He knows, even before he reads it.

gotta go  
personal biz  
dont die  
  
<s>sorry</s>


	4. rolling thunder had cursed my bedroom (heard from your mother, she don't recognise you)

HARRY ANDERSON: (man, i _hate_ hiking.)

JAKE: What was that harry old boy?

HARRY ANDERSON: er, just thinking out loud. nothing important.

JAKE: Fair enough!  
JAKE: Say john could you lend me a hand with these blasted tents?

JOHN: sure.

Harry Anderson Egbert shifts his own burdensome duffle bag and balances it on his hip while he unlocks the front door of his father’s house. It’s difficult, because every muscle in his body shrieks with agony every moment he isn’t holding perfectly still, thanks to what Jake considers a “moderately inclined slope” and a “light pace”, more commonly known as forcing your family members to run up the side of a fucking mountain once a week as a bonding exercise.

(Jake only slows down if Tavros has one of his asthma attacks. Harry has begun surreptitiously bribing him with his preferred form of currency, cans of TAB soda, to start faking them. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten to pack any this weekend, and Tavros didn’t have the decency to suffer a _real_ life-threatening bronchospasm for the sake of Harry’s calf muscles. This is why he’s the lamest person Harry knows.)

It would be bad enough if the hiking trips were just exhausting, but the overnight camping aspect brought with it all kinds of added things to complain about. The bugs. The fact that the inflatable mattress always seems to deflate throughout the night, no matter how carefully Harry seals the inlet. Sharing a tent with Tavros, who doesn’t snore, but whose breath whistles through the gap between his two front teeth in a gratingly high pitch. The bathroom, or lack thereof, situation. It is basically hell. Harry doesn’t know why he puts up with it.

Well… no. That’s not true.

Harry Anderson dumps his bag on the floor the second he’s over the threshold, and casts a glance over his shoulder at the rest of his family. In particular, his father. John isn’t smiling right now, but there’s a twitch in the corners of his mouth that suggests that he’s trying not to smile. He’s talking to Jake, the two of them striving to wrestle a poorly-packed tent through the front door without snapping any of the poles. After a few moments of cursing and struggle, they manage to get it through and drop it beside Harry’s own burden.

Since their hiking trips began, shortly after Roxy suggested that Harry see his father on a regular basis, around the same time that John started attending unspecified appointments (Harry’s pretty sure everyone knows he’s seeing a psychiatrist, but his dad is pretty secretive about that detail.) and taking a small, square pill every morning (Again, Harry knows he’s just taking antidepressants, but only because he’s searched the name on the bottle. His dad is _super _cagey about all this.) he’s been…

Not _happy_. Not exactly. Sometimes he still looks at people like they're not really there, or like he's watching from far away and can't quite recognise them. Sometimes he still says shit that sounds like it could have come from Harry's philosophy class, if it were a class about sad old people moping about divorce and war and— actually, that is pretty much philosophy class in a nutshell. No, John isn't happy, but he's... definitely _happier_. Less likely to cry if Harry stands in the same room as him for too long. Their hiking trips are a gruelling physical and mental trial, but it’s also the time where Harry’s dad seems most normal. They actually manage to _talk_ to each other, like how Harry imagines a father and son are supposed to talk.

It's kinda bittersweet, actually, as their talks often serve to reveal how little John seems to know about his son. He'd been genuinely surprised— delighted, but still surprised— to discover Harry's talent for impressions, and his hobby in sleight of hand. It's not like Harry hadn't ever tried to connect with his dad or share his interests, either. Most of the time, before his parents' divorce, John had barely seemed present in his own life. He'd disappear off somewhere in his head and years would pass, birthdays and milestones and personal achievements all met with that same tired, vacant expression while Harry tried to learn how to stop having expectations of his father at all, something he'd never managed.

(This weekend, Harry had done impressions requests by the campfire. John had laughed at his portrayal of Jake so hard that he'd choked on his own spit. Harry Anderson Egbert used to not know what his father's laugh sounded like.)

Point is, it could be a lot worse than some sore muscles and a bad night's sleep. It _has_ been a lot worse. Given a choice, he’ll pick the stupid fucking hiking trip every time.

The responsible thing to do would be to help Jake and John finish unpacking the shuttlevan. However, Harry Anderson Egbert has only one thing on his mind in this moment, already halfway up the stairs to the second floor, and that's beating Tavros to the shower. Manual labour can wait until he's washed every trace of day-old sweat and hiking dust off his body and stood underneath the oft-unappreciated gift that is hot, running water until his muscles no longer feel like he'd fallen _down_ the mountain instead of climbed _up_.  
  
It's a solid hour before Harry's recovered enough to leave the sanctuary of the shower, and it takes him another fifteen minutes of melodramatic hobbling around his room before he's dressed in clean clothes. He should probably go downstairs and see if there's anything left that needs unpacking or putting away.  
  
At the foot of the stairs, Harry pauses. The television is on, and displaying his aunt Jane making some sort of speech. That wouldn't be unusual, except for the fact that she seems to be unveiling a giant statue of... a troll? Ah, right. The peace talks. Harry remembers Vriska texting him a few weeks ago in a huff, that the rebellion she'd only just been permitted to join was now slated for imminent dissolution. Harry had laughed at her warped priorities, though honestly, he was sort of relieved— ever since tensions had erupted into all-out war, he hadn't been able to meet with Vriska very often. Not with his aunt's millions of spy gadgets on the lookout for fraternisers and sympathisers.  
  
It would be great if the peace talks led to, like, actual peace and troll rights and all of that. Harry Anderson knows what's really important, here. It would just also be great if it meant he could finally get to third base with his girlfriend of over a year. You know, as a bonus.  
  
John's voice carries, drowning out whatever saccharine, rehearsed crap Jane is saying on the screen. Harry draws as close to the back of the couch as he dares without alerting to his presence— hey, a little eavesdropping never hurt anyone.

JOHN: do you think it’s gonna last? the ceasefire, i mean.  
JOHN: it seems pretty abrupt, to go from televised executions to erecting a memorial for… what was her name… the green mop troll everyone’s sad about.

JAKE: John her name was swifer eggmop and her tragic passing was a dark day for everyone i dont know how you forget these things.

JOHN: right. that one.

JAKE: As for all this peace hullabaloo well i mean whos to say if it sticks?  
JAKE: For all we know jane really has… erm…  
JAKE: Well anythings possible is what i always say.

JOHN: this turn around just seems weird to me. not that the war itself wasn’t bonkers to begin with, but i think we’re exceeding our usual threshold of weird with this development.  
JOHN: i don’t buy it.

Jake doesn't say anything to that, but the way he reaches for the remote and immediately changes the channel suggests that he can't bring himself to disagree. There's a brief lull in their conversation. A jingle advertising a Crocker branded computational headset plays, filling the gap.

JOHN: have you heard from jade recently?

JAKE: Oh yes actually i was on the phone with her a few days ago.

JOHN: huh.  
JOHN: did she mention dave?

JAKE: I cant say his name came up no.  
JAKE: It was only a brief chat you know how it is when youre an intrepid desperado like they are we really only had the time to say howdy before she had to dash.

JOHN: hm.

JAKE: Any reason why youre inquiring after mr strider?

JOHN: not really. it’s just been a long time since anyone’s heard from him.  
JOHN: i was hoping he might get in touch, now it’s not literally illegal for him to talk to us.

That was probably not going to happen. As far as Harry's aware, a lot of what the adults in his life do is feel sorry for themselves about the fact that they aren't spending enough time together, while not making any effort to spend time together.

JOHN: hey.  
JOHN: jake…

JAKE: Yes?

JOHN: have you thought about trying for full custody again?

There's a long pause where Jake doesn't answer, or move.

JOHN: sorry to ask, it’s just…

JAKE: I think about it all the time.  
JAKE: But john even if i had the chutzpah to wrangle myself a team of lawyers with the gumption to take on janes formidable array of ace attorneys…  
JAKE: Its not actually my decision.  
JAKE: Or it shouldnt be.

JOHN: what do you mean? you’re his dad! who else can even make that decision?

Harry can't see Jake's face, but from the way his shoulders slump and the sound of the deep sigh he gives, he guesses he must look pretty miserable.

JAKE: Tavros.  
JAKE: It strikes me as important that i give him a choice.  
JAKE: And that i respect the decisions he makes even if i find myself troubled by them.  
JAKE: After all hes had precious little of those growing up and thats in large part thanks to me.

JOHN: so he wants to keep seeing his mom? i thought he couldn’t stand her.

JAKE: Its complicated with family.  
JAKE: There are times when i find myself wanting to see her again too.  
JAKE: Our relationship…  
JAKE: If it had been bad all of the time im sure i would have left much sooner.  
JAKE: No janey could be very sweet in her own way sometimes and she had a way of making it seem that if you would only work hard enough at being the man she needed you to be then it would all start coming up roses and really all you had to do was…  
JAKE: All i had to do was…  
JAKE: Be somebody else i suppose.

John shifts uncomfortably, apparently struggling to think of an appropriate response to such a personal admission.

JOHN: that sounds…  
JOHN: bad.

Harry Anderson really, really hopes that he didn't get John's genes in the emotional support department.

JAKE: Ha ha.  
JAKE: Youll think poorly of me for it i suspect but i worry about her sometimes.  
JAKE: All alone in that enormous empty house…  
JAKE: I feel like a right scoundrel for abandoning her to that.  
JAKE: As if its just another way ive managed to let her down.  
JAKE: Thats not to say i regret leaving oh no no!  
JAKE: Its just that these things are never so cut and dry as wed like them to be.  
JAKE: And thats why i havent questioned tavros on his decision to keep seeing her.  
JAKE: Or to keep his last name.  
JAKE: I think i understand.

JOHN: i can’t say i do, but i won’t hassle you about it.  
JOHN: i guess i’m worried about him is all.  
JOHN: i thought he’d come out of his shell when you guys moved in, but if anything he’s more withdrawn and somber than ever.

JAKE: Yeah.  
JAKE: I know what you mean.

The two of them fall silent, after that, in a way that feels pretty conclusive as the end of that discussion. Harry turns around, intending to make his way back upstairs, and nearly walks smack into Tavros. Yikes. How long has he been standing behind him? It's really creepy how he seems to appear from nowhere, all the time. It's just easy to overlook the guy. He's so small, and he hunches himself up even smaller most of the time. His footsteps are so light that it's basically impossible to listen out for him, too.

HARRY ANDERSON: (augh. how long have you been there?)

It's hard to sound the right amount of irritated-yet-unaffected when you're whispering, but Harry gives it his best shot.

TAVROS: (I was here,)  
TAVROS: (First, actually,)  
TAVROS: (You walked right past me,)

HARRY ANDERSON: (why are you eavesdropping on my dad?)

TAVROS: (You do realise,)  
TAVROS: (You’re asking me that,)  
TAVROS: (While plainly eavesdropping on my father, as well,)  
TAVROS: (Not to mention,,,)  
TAVROS: (They were talking about me,)

HARRY ANDERSON: (whatever.)

Harry wants to ask, for a moment, why Tavros chose to keep seeing Jane. Not that he cares, it's just weird that anyone would willingly subject themselves to his aunt. Harry's not _scared_ of Jane, if anyone asks... but he does go a little cold, at the idea of her finding out who he's been playing tonsil hockey with for the past year. He's sure she wouldn't hurt him, or anything, but. Well. He's not scared of her. He could have sworn _Tavros_ was scared of her, though, and it makes no sense that he'd actively decide to spend time with her if he had a choice. He'd just assumed all this time that Tavros didn't have a say in the matter. He always seems so resigned to getting swept along in the wake of other people's decisions.

There's something about Tavros' expression now, though, that makes Harry hesitate to pry. Despite his defensive posturing, he feels as though he's been caught out in listening to something he shouldn't have heard. It's not like it's _news_ that Tavros' home life was shit prior to his parents' divorce, though. It's just a subject he doesn't really like to think about, or care to bring up. It's not any of his business. He'd expect Tavros to extend him the same unspoken courtesy, in the reverse situation. There are some topics that are simply off limits in a good "riff", no matter how much of a weenie you think the other guy is.

The pause lasts a beat too long to feel natural, and Harry's retort falls flat and weak.

HARRY ANDERSON: (you are so annoying.)

TAVROS: (If you say so,)

Tavros isn't looking at Harry. His eyes are fixed on the back of Jake's head with an unusual intensity, and it's hard to interpret the expression he wears. Concern, maybe? Guilt? As if able to sense he's being stared at, Jake turns around, to catch sight of them both. His face breaks out into one of his more radiant smiles, and Tavros immediately drops his gaze to the floor.

JAKE: Ah i was wondering when you boys would show yourselves.  
JAKE: What say you about rustling up some comestibles eh?

JOHN: some what?

JAKE: Some friggin dinner john come on now that one wasnt that hard.

It occurs to Harry that he is fucking starving, actually.

HARRY ANDERSON: hell yeah i want some comestibles. what are we eating?

Tavros begins to edge backwards towards the stairs, without looking up.

TAVROS: I'm not,  
TAVROS: Really hungry,  
TAVROS: Also,,, I still need to shower, so I'm going, to go do that,  
TAVROS: Um,  
TAVROS: Don't wait up for me, please,  
TAVROS: I can, fix myself something, later,

God, what a wet blanket. The smile slides off Jake's face like melted wax, and he doesn't have a chance to argue before his son is already vanishing up the stairs.

JAKE: Right-o then.

Harry is spared the brutal task of breaking the ensuing awkward silence, because just then he gets a text from his girlfriend, his phone playing the little custom tone he'd set it to for her as a joke and then never bothered to change. There's a reason he loves her, he thinks, pulling the phone out of his pocket while John and Jake disappear into the kitchen.

VRISKA: Haaaaaaaarry!  
VRISKA: Quit whatever Dum8 8ullshit you’re doing and answer your texts!  
VRISKA: Shit is Going Down over here.

HARRY ANDERSON: oh man.  
HARRY ANDERSON: tell me everything.


End file.
